Brandt was kneeling in the bushes, and next to him were two wildman warriors of Hanne’s band. The taller, named Stef, was a twenty-something, clad in what seemed to be the standard attire for his people. Leather jacket, pants and shoes, and a linen shirt. He was skinny, just like any other of the wildmen they met so far, with a bushy beard and long, curly, blonde hair he wore tightened in a braid weighted at the end with an iron clamp. He was introduced as a guide to the precursorial site. At least that was what Brandt expected to witness.

They moved out of the camp as early in the morning as they could, and it took a little over three candles to reach the perimeter of the ‘nanoforge’ complex. Strettar told Brandt that the Husels kept a tight patrol schedule around the site, laying a factual siege to the place, at least to a degree the strained resources of a raiding party allowed.

On that perimeter, he and Stef met someone whose appearance made Brandt raise an eyebrow. The old aberrant, having seen much of the world, and having forgotten quite a bit of it, being surprised was rare. Hjalmar, as that was the other man’s name, was maybe about forty, a touch shorter than Stef, and dressed similarly to him. He also had a prominent bald patch on the top of his scalp, surrounded by a nest of short and greying hair. He also wore a long, greying beard and his ears were… tipped at the top. Somewhat, but noticeably.

Stef and Hjalmar exchanged a few words, then the former gestured to Brandt to follow them both. After a quarter or so of marching, wildmen slowed down, knelt, and began to creep forward slowly. Nord followed suit.

Brandt was hit with a sudden sense of unease when he finally saw the first glimpses of the goal of their journey. It rumbled around his brain trying to find a place to fit, but failing at it miserably. He shook this feeling off and concentrated on registering what actually was present before his eyes.

The site was built in the middle of an artificially kept clearing. From the forest wall to the nearest buildings was about a hundred, maybe hundred and fifty mers. The space was maintained rather shoddily, as younger trees were already encroaching, but nonetheless, someone did keep the area around the place free of overgrowth.

The buildings were rectangular, grey, and unlike anything he had ever seen. The walls were windowless and plain in color. The texture of brickwork was nowhere to be seen, nor were there traces of timber framing, be it maargaridan or cammotian type. The uniform look was broken in places by some sizable cracks on the walls and streaks of rust smeared from the top edges. It seemed these structures had no roof unless such were entirely flat. There were no chimneys, instead masts topped with rectangular panels of dark glass topped the structures. Brandt had not the faintest idea what was their purpose.

From somewhere in the middle of the compound a freakishly tall girder tower shot into the skies. It was guyed with multiple ropes like a mast of sailship to huge grey, mossy blocks similar to the one he and Trawins found a few weeks ago. On the tower’s top were several arrays of cylindrical things with no discernable purpose.

Brandt’s first reflex, after seeing the place, was to go toward it, but he was rudely kept from doing so. The man with the pointed ears pulled him by the shoulder and whispered.

-”Timpelier, kaam justerjûn, fermoarde de lytsen” - he said in the same melodic timbre that struck Brandt a few days prior when Olaff spoke to them for the first time. It was an eerie experience, considering it came from a bald, hairy man with a facial deformity. He would consider this a circus act in different circumstances, here and now, it certainly wasn’t.

-” Timplier? … umm …kkrigier mit… fjoer … stok?” - Nord replied uneasily.

-” Ja, fan Margrjad” - came the response. It took Brandt a few drips to conclude that ‘Margrjad’ was the wildmen’s pronunciation of ‘Maargard’. The message was clear, the Ordos were already here and well settled in. Nord’s first consideration was: How did they get to this place so quickly and without a run-in with Hanne’s men? He remembered that their former pursuers had a seer with them, he realized that they spotted the ‘nanoforge’ from kimers away and headed straight to it.

-” Sjen…”- Brandt was making gestures at the man, putting his palm to his brow, as if he was protecting himself from the sun, he hoped that his guardian would understand that he wanted to see where the ordos were -”…Sjen, timplier”

Hjalmar seemingly understood, as he nodded at Brandt as if he wanted to guide him somewhere, and immediately began to sneak through the forest. Stef followed right after, and as he moved past Brandt, he gestured at him to follow. Nord wiggled his eyebrows, not seeing the purpose of this secrecy, but complied.

They spent about a quanter on the site’s perimeter slowly creeping forward. Hjalmar led them confidently, albeit slowly and his route was chosen specifically to leave as little of a trail as possible. Initially, Brandt found it a little difficult to follow his guide. Brandt concluded they were following the path the wildmen established for patrolling the compound. Convinced, he tried to predict where it would lead them next. After a few moments, he could discern the route. It was subtle and well hidden, but it certainly was there.

At one moment, Hjalmar stopped and raised his right hand, urging others to do stop as well. Then he proceeded to slowly creep towards the site, instead of following the route Brandt would expect. Once close enough to the clearing around the compound, he squatted and signaled Stef and Brandt to come to him.

-” Sjoch ris, donkere man.” - Hjalmar whispered while pointing weakly at the nanoforge. Brandt nodded and crept further forward until he reached a convenient vantage point.

At first, he didn’t notice much of interest. The buildings were there, just visible at a different angle. The presence of ordos was confirmed by several hobbled horses nibbling on grass in varying places around the clearing. Brandt counted eight.

When he looked to his right he noticed that the turf there was torn to shreds, most likely after a column of horsemen went through and didn’t care what sort of trail they were going to leave. When he followed this trail, he noticed a pile of, most likely, corpses lying by the wall of one of the buildings. Maybe a hundred mers from him. They were unlike Brandt had ever seen because whatever was there, dead, was no taller than a child. Immediately, when he saw the pile, he envisioned the ordos charging on their horses at those poor things.

Then he asked himself a question whether, whomever they were, were they hostile?

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Not a moment later Brandt understood why Hjalmar had chosen this specific place. Brandt could gaze right through the gap between two buildings, with the heap of gore somewhat left to it. It had a width of about half of the building’s height and was quite brightly lit by the Bivos nearing noon.

At one moment Nord’s attention was captivated by a silhouette of a man. He appeared from somewhere inside the compound and walked casually along the more shaded side of the passage and towards Brandt. Once he entered the full daylight and, equally casually, began to urinate on the wall next to the corpses. He could be recognized as one of the Ordo mariners they met before. It could even be the one Brandt was eavesdropping on. Except now Nord could witness the colorful attire Sorresians liked to dress themselves in. This man wore a richly crimson shirt, poking out of a mundane, standard Ordo issue black coat, which by itself was belted by a yellow strap or belt, matched to equally yellow pants.

Once the mariner finished his business, he headed back to wherever he came from. Brandt followed his path for a while, but at one point the man disappeared behind a corner.

Brandt was observing the compound for a triskol or two, but nothing more was happening, except for chirps, swooshes, and rustles of the woods. Nobody was patrolling the perimeter, nobody seemed to be even stationed on the ‘roof’ along the ‘mirrors’ to watch the neighborhood. Whether that was the case was questionable, maybe he simply couldn’t notice anyone. Regardless of anything, Nord decided he wanted to take a peek at the activities inside.

There was about a hundred mers from his location to the nearest building with a grassy glade with sparsely strewn bushes in the middle.

-” A few drips of fear and I’m near the wall, should be smooth sailing from there.” - he murmured to himself - “Let’s go!”

He sprung into action. For his target, he had chosen a spot at the half-width of the wall of the building by which the pile of corpses was laid. Without any pretence of stealth, he just ran towards it. Once reached the spot he had chosen and immediately flattened himself on the wall and began to listen if his intrusion was heard by anyone.

A triskol of silence ensured him that he wasn’t.

He took a look at the wall behind his back. It was made from the same ‘poured mortar’ he and Anh discussed on the previous site. It was rough to touch, but very flat, more than any mason would ever be able achieve. It was also quite weathered with cracks and chips of various sizes and lengths all over. When he was in the bushes, observing the structures, they almost seemed like unmoving timeless obelisks, assaulted by forces of nature. Close up it was obvious that they were losing this battle and for quite some time.

His first instinct was to move towards the corpses and inspect them for whatever they were, but he quickly reconsidered. After all, not a quarter before there was one of the ordos just about there. Thus Brandt moved in the opposite direction. He counted thirty-two steps before he arrived at the corner of the building. He peeked over it.

The wall extended further, to a square between several of its kind. Further, opposite to him, was another building which was a little lower, but of the same construction. On its wall was a door hole, about five mers in width and four in height. Inside there didn’t seem to be much, but the inside was not lit. The area further down the alley was laid with a layer of something smooth, tar colored, and stony. Brandt could not discern what it was, but it bore the scars of time.

Next to the building with missing doors stood another just like it. Between both of them was an equal ten-mer gap. Brandt decided he wanted to try to peek at the Ordos from there.

Certain nobody noticed him yet, he quickly ran to the corner of the opposite building. Then went along its wall, counting his steps.

-” Thirty by fifty” - he whispered when he arrived at another corner. He peeked over it and saw the weirdest ‘forest’ he had ever seen. It was about twenty mers away. Its ‘trees’ were arranged in an array of eight by eight and their ‘crown’ was a square of glass, three by three mers in size at least, and with almost a mirror shine to it. About half of the ‘trees’ had their ‘crown’ missing, some had it broken or cracked, exposing a substructure beneath. It had the form of a spider of tubular ‘branches’ emanating from a ball joint at the tip of the ‘trunk’. Some ropes were visible hanging off holes in the ball of the broken trees. After the initial bewilderment passed, Brandt noted that those ‘trees’, at least their leaves, were identical to those which topped some of the buildings.

Brandt continued past the corner and along the ‘forest’. Still counting steps. It took him no more than a few drips to get to another corner, which he hoped would get him to the gap between buildings he hoped to reach.

-” Fifty steps as well” - he said to himself before peeking over the corner.

What first caught his attention was an obelisk in the middle of the black square. Brandt could have sworn it was identical to what he had seen just a few weeks ago. The girder mast he noticed when he first saw the compound was rooted in this obelisk. Its entire surface was flaky or rusted. Brown streaks of rust, carried by rainfall and spreading from the legs of the girder stained the obelisk beneath.

Brandt moved past the corner, into the gap between two buildings, and along the wall. He slowly crept forward and listened to any suspect noises. From Ordos, wherever they were, on anything else. Sure enough, as he was getting closer, he began to hear shreds of conversations and laughter.

Once he finally reached another corner, Brandt took a cautious peek over it. Ordos’ base of operations was the building he saw a soldier urinate over. It had a wide door hole, maybe twenty mers wide and five tall. It reached almost half of the height of the structure. It also lacked any sort of door to lock it off. Through it, Brandt saw an interior filled with… things. Tubular, rectangular, and cylindrical objects were arranged along its walls and connected with ropes of varying colors and thickness. The inside was also brightly lit in an eerily bluish tint that permeated even through the bivlight.

Ordos exploited the spacious interior of the building and set up a makeshift camp inside. Almost at the step into the building was a roast, by which one man was working on skinning and dismembering a deer. The fire was already lit and a small mound of fresh firewood was nearby. Two men were sleeping on a bedroll inside and three others were sitting on the floor to the left of the roast and playing dice. One sat somewhat to the side, with his back resting on the doorframe, and smoking pipe.

From behind his corner, Brandt could finally take a closer look at who was pursuing him since they left Katzburg. All of those he could see in any detail were Nords, like him, albeit with more Western features, as their lighter skin and straight hair gave away. Which, once again, would point to them being former sailors, as western Sorres, with its ports in Tevros and Hargen was the mainstay of the majority of both merchant and navy fleets.

-” Veterans.” - Said Brandt to sourly himself when he noticed that, without exception, they were middle-aged or even older - “Resting after a long journey...”

For a few moments, the old aberrant tried to locate the tanai seer, but they were nowhere to be found.

-”...and their tanai friend is rummaging through all of this, like a child at a New Year’s fair.”

After a few further drips Brandt decided it was time to leave. He slowly moved back, along the wall towards the ‘forest’ of glass trees. Once he was near, he quickly assessed the shortest path through which he would find himself in the cover of woodland. He found one right through a gap in the fencing of the weird forest. He quickly took a peek behind himself, to check if anyone had seen him. It was, probably, unnecessary considering how silent he was, but Brandt preferred to be certain. He also took a peek above. There could be someone with a longarm on the roof.

There were no signs of anyone.

Brandt began to run towards the real forest, hundred fifty or so mers before him. It took him no more than half of triskol before he found refuge in the foliage, and once he made it quite into it, he allowed himself to stop and take a few deep breaths.

-” Suver waansin, Zerst man, Suver waansin” - said Stef when he and Hjalmar showed up not a moment later, with a concerned look on their faces. Without knowing how to answer, Brandt just nodded, still panting a bit.